Animal Instinct
by Nyx6
Summary: Sam and Dean help out when a demon Bobby once dealt with returns, taking control of a zoo and it's more deadly inhabitants. Involves grumpy Bobby, reckless Dean, plenty of action and...Sam being hassled by a capuchin. I couldn't resist!
1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

"That's what I like to see. A girl with a bit of meat on her!"

The comment earned an eye roll and the barest hint of a smile.

"Very funny George."

"I thought so too,"

And it probably would have been if Katie Kennedy had not been hearing the same line every morning for the last thirteen months as she struggled back to the big cat enclosure from the storage fridges with a boxful of raw off-cuts that was so heavy it left bruises on her forearms. She sighed heavily as she lowered the package down onto the counter-top, standing for a moment to regain her breath,

"Everyone okay this morning?"

"Certainly seem that way," George replied, scratching a hand through the dwindling supply of grey hair topping his head as his eyes sparkled in excitement. Katie regarded him with a curious frown,

"What?"

"Missy's nesting,"

Her mouth dropped open wide, a smile turning up the corners of her lips,

"No!"

"Yes sir," George sang back casually, full of Southern old-boy charm, "Could be any day now."

Beginning to sort out the rations, Katie let a wide grin cross her face, her heart thumping in excitement. Since the day she'd started work at the zoo, she'd been waiting for one of her charges to give birth. A triumph for any establishment with captive tigers, and certainly a boost to the international breeding programme. The thought of her Missy being part of such a campaign was both moving and thrilling. George caught her expression with similar joy, shaking his head warmly,

"Guess that's going to make us Grandparents, huh?"

"Maybe in your case," Katie shot back cheerfully, "But I refuse to have grand-cubs at my age. I'll settle for being a cool Aunt."

George laughed, repositioning his staff cap and heading towards the door,

"Point taken. Right, I'll get them up and out. See you in a minute."

"Sure thing."

The door flapped once behind him and then slammed, leaving Katie all alone.

Tiger cubs. She grinned again, hardly daring to believe it was so close. Cheerfully she started to hum, concentrating on sectioning up the meat and remaining completely oblivious to all else. Even as a dark stream of smoke started to seep in from the air vents above her, finding her out like a beacon and invading her airways. It took only a matter of seconds for once hazel eyes to blink solid black.

"Katie?" called a voice from outside, "You coming? Don't forget their breakfast!"

"Oh, don't worry Georgie," came the reply, suddenly sounding silky and dark as she picked up the meat cleaver and traced a fingertip across the sharp blade, "I won't."

* * *

Here we go again everyone! Prologue? Check. Demon Possession? Check. And now just because I'm kind and because there wouldn't even be a section without them, here's chapter one...and the boys!


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One.**

The growl of the Impala sounded so animalistic that for a split second before it pulled up beside him in the deserted parking lot, Bobby could have sworn it came from within the zoo. A deep throaty rumble only exposed as a car by the flash of headlights across the dark.

Two familiar faces stared out at him through the windshield and as Dean leant forward to switch off the engine, everything was suddenly plunged back into silence…until they flung open those damn creaky doors that was, the noise making Bobby cringe inwardly and doing little to dampen the bad mood that had been growing for the past two days,

"It's about damn time!" he snapped, glaring at them as they trudged across the tarmac towards him,

"You two take the scenic route or something?"

Dean didn't even flinch, simply regarding the older man with a vaguely angelic smile,

"Well hello to you too sunshine."

Sam cleared his throat, stifling a laugh and trying to look a little more sincere than his brother,

"We got here as quick as we could. You mentioned something about a demon?"

"Here," leaning towards them Bobby flicked out a folded up newspaper, watching Dean take it and turn it over, holding it out for Sam to see as well. He read the headline aloud,

"Tigers maul keeper," a shudder, "Nasty way to go, but what's this got to do with us?"

Bobby nodded towards the page,

"Keep reading."

As Dean's eyes flickered briefly skywards, Sam – sensing his frustration – instinctively took over the narrative, the transition as smooth as if it had been pre-rehearsed. Bobby's lips twitched in a fraction of a smile.

"George Turnbull was hailed as a 'model employee' and 'wonderful man' last night after being mauled to death by three of the zoo's four Bengal tigers – Luna, Darla and Dieter – ,"

Dean snorted,

"With names like that I don't blame them."

Sam ignored him,

"Mr. Turnbull, sixty-one, was a twenty-year veteran of big cat care and his death has thrown the zoological park into shock. One member of staff who did not wish to be named described the incident as 'strange' explaining that Mr. Turnbull had raised Luna and Darla from cubs and that their behaviour was 'extremely out of character.'"

Sam stopped as the article came to an end, eyes finding out Bobby from under his dark mass of hair. Beside him, Dean's attention seemed less than aroused.

"Out of character? They're freakin' tigers. Of course they've eaten someone!"

Sam was still looking at Bobby,

"You think it's a demon?"

"Whoa," as Bobby continued to stare back at them solemnly, his silence speaking volumes, Dean stepped forward with his hands held up in an appeal for a break, "Wait a minute, demons are controlling animals now? Can they even _do_ that?"

It was Sam that answered for him, taking a deep breath as he mentally dredged up past research,

"Actually Christian beliefs attribute a lot of different powers to demons. Although except for a passage in the Bible where Jesus is said to have cast a demon out of a man and into a herd of pigs, I've never come across any actual cases."

"Well," sighed Bobby, leaning over and snatching the paper back again as Dean came across a full-page advert featuring a bikini-clad model. He pointedly ignored the ensuing look of protest, "That's because you've never come across Diana before."

Dean blinked, sharing a quick look with Sam who looked equally as baffled,

"Diana?" Dean asked, before smirking slightly, "Old girlfriend?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes, not amused.

"Old exorcism."

"Smooth-talker."

"Bobby?" Sam interjected, trying to draw the conversation back, "Demon?"

"Yeah," said Dean instantly all business once more, the sudden change still surprising Bobby despite all the years he'd known them. Sam didn't bat an eyelid, "Why's this chick possessing animals 'stead of people?"

"Oh she's possessing people all right," Bobby shot back hotly, "Just like every other damn demon we've ever come across. It's just that in Diana's case instead of telekinesis or levitation, she can control animals. Make 'em do whatever she wants."

Dean blinked,

"So what? We're after the demonic version of Doctor Dolittle here?"

"Something like that. Or to put it another way, you know what the Roman Goddess of wild creatures was called?"

Sam swallowed, his knowledge not failing him,

"Diana."

Bobby nodded solemnly,

"Named after her."

Dean let out a short sigh, gazing around the deserted car park and then over to where the entrance gates stood quiet in the dark,

"Please tell me you've wasted this bitch before,"

"Once," came the reply, "At a camp site in Wyoming. Bear country," the short sentence at once drew matching grimaces from the Winchesters and Bobby nodded at them, letting out a snort that conveyed anything but amusement, "She'd possessed a ranger, was taking campers out on treks they never came back from. Damned messy job. I was hoping I'd never have to see her again but…" he shrugged, sighing, "…must've slunk right back out when the devil's gate was open."

Dean suppressed a shudder, trying not to feel the sudden weight of that second burger he'd had not one hour ago. _Freakin' demons…_

"What's the plan Bobby?" asked Sam from beside him, starting to get his game-face on and watching as the older hunter crossed to his truck and let down the back. Sat staring back at them from the inside were industrial-sized bags of salt, propped up against each other and ready for action. As Sam and Dean drew up alongside, Bobby pulled one down and threw it at their feet, wiping the back of a hand across his brow.

"We seal off the enclosures," he told them simply, voice low with purpose as he turned back to pull out another bag, "Salt the fiercest things first and after that we'll go after – ," he tailed off as he noticed a little trail of salt being trickled around his feet, blinking across at the culprit both irritated and incredulous, "What in the hell are you doing boy?"

Dean looked up at him in response, a typically insolent grin of _isn't it obvious_ stamped across his face as he took in the clueless expression.

"Nothing's fiercer than you Bobby."

"What the – get!" It was a barked command, accompanied by a hand flung in the direction of the empty and darkened zoo as Bobby tried to maintain his composure whilst shaking little white grains from the tops of his boots.

"Yes sir," Dean responded in casual quasi-military style, catching Sam's grin as his younger brother bent to collect the bag lying before him on the floor. It was almost more fun winding up Bobby than each other, although Bobby didn't think so, instead shoving another sack of salt into the eldest Winchesters' arms and noting that his grumpy-glare was beginning to have less and less of an effect on the pair as the months went by. On Dean in particular.

"Here," he snapped, thrusting a colourful piece of paper into Sam's pocket as they turned to head off, "Take this map with you so you two idjits know where you're going…and split up, we've got a lot of ground to cover."

They took the added instructions in silence, both nodding obediently – which in itself was a sight that made Bobby worry. Heaving a sigh he turned back to his truck again, pulling out a final bag for himself and letting a single, irritable thought run through his head.

_Those two are damn well going to be the death of me…_

* * *

Ahh Bobby. I love grumpy older people – my grandma has been known to do it particularly well on rare occasions bless her. She certainly picks her moments put it that way!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it thus far and please let me know what you think.

(And because I just trashed her online I dedicate this to my ever-fabulous Grandmother!)


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two.**

"Dude, this is awesome!"

Flashlights casting a beam of brightness through the dark pathways before them, tendrils of exotic plants leaning inwards from deep high-walled enclosures, Sam blinked across at his brother in a curious mixture of surprise and derision, marvelling at the open-mouthed expression and sparkling eyes. Dean was actually enjoying himself.

"It is?"

"Sure! It's like being a kid again!"

Sam frowned,

"When did we ever break into a zoo as kids?"

"I'm not talking about breaking in Sam!" Dean shot back, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "I'm talking about being here, checking out all the animals, a couple of regular Joes."

Sam wasn't buying it, although the childlike excitement in Dean's tone did make him smile slightly.

"I'm pretty sure most people buy tickets."

"Come _on_, where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think I must have left it back in the parking lot when Bobby started talking about demons," Sam shot back dryly.

Or perhaps he'd lost it as they tried to get in, which had not been as easy as they had originally thought. Picking the lock had been fine, as had scaling the extra-high security fence – Bobby had needed letting in manually after refusing a leg-up from Dean, _"I ain't being hitched up like some damn piñata!"_ – but the electric alarm system that barred the doors had proved more of a problem. A problem that had required thought, concentration and careful application of skill…

Until Dean had draped it with a gasoline-covered rag and set fire to it, gazing up with his infuriatingly smug _I know, I'm brilliant_ look before simply pushing his way in through the doors whilst Sam and Bobby had held their breath.

Silence. Except for the sound of Bobby muttering something under his breath. Something about the two of them and his impending death. They had both chosen to ignore him.

"Bingo!"

At Dean's sudden laugh of delight, Sam jumped, fumbling the map in his hands as he watched his brother suddenly dive unannounced into the darkness.

"Dean?!"

"Hey, Sammy!"

It didn't sound like he was in any trouble and yet Sam couldn't stop his fingers from curling instinctively closer around the flashlight, his heart rate beginning to climb with prickles of adrenaline. Tentatively, he rounded the corner. Dean stared back at him in the beam of light half-sprawled over some sort of cart, one hand fumbling about inside.

"Dean?"

"Strawberry or vanilla?"

"Huh?"

Bringing up his arm, Dean sat up straight, holding out a handful of packaged bars in his younger brother's direction. He looked mildly put-out,

"They're all out of chocolate."

He was stealing ice cream.

"Dean – ,"

"Come on grumpy!" came the annoyingly cheerful interruption, followed by a mockingly pouty puppy-dog face, "My treat."

"Put them back."

It wasn't a suggestion, nor was Dean's growing amusement helping any.

"Bi – ,"

"_Don't_ say it."

Dean grinned back at him widely. _Bitch_.

Sam sighed heavily, bending instead to re-examine the crumpled map Bobby had provided him with. He was not going to satisfy Dean by replying and he damn well wasn't going to let his brother see the spark of amusement in his eyes. One of them had to be mature after all.

"Bobby suggested we split up," he offered with a breath, trying hard to stifle a smile as an ice cream wrapper flashed past him towards the trashcan and missed.

"Yeah well, he suggested a lot of things, like I quit clowning around but that's not happening either."

Sam paused,

"What?!"

"It's dangerous Sam. You were standing there same as me, you heard him. This Diana chick's a real piece of work."

Instantly Sam's voice took on a hint of childish petulance, a vague whine a fraction of semi-tone higher than his usual pitch,

"Come on Dean. We've both got holy water, not to mention half the world's salt reserves. Bobby's right, we've got a whole lot of ground to cover and not much time to cover it in. We'll go a lot faster if we take an enclosure each."

Grudging agreement. Another bite of vanilla followed by the chilly shudder of ice on nerve-endings.

"What do you suggest?"

Heaving a sigh, Sam bent to stare down at the clearly child-oriented map, trying to make sense of the scribbled cartoons that denoted the animals. Rhinos, lions, tigers…

He shrugged,

"I don't know, does it matter?"

"Course it matters!" Dean's response was scornful, brows drawn tight in outrage, "I didn't drive for six hours to go toe-to-toe with a freakin' koala bear. Give me something dangerous Sam!"

"O-kay...big cats or monkeys?"

Abruptly, Dean was grinning again.

"There's a sentence you never thought you'd have to say," he paused, thinking, "Flip a coin?"

"Dean – ,"

"These monkeys. How big are they exactly? I mean are we talking King Kong or – ?"

Sam let out a groan, his temper quickly reaching breaking point and knowing the sight would only make Dean's grin widen.

"Just take the lions will you?" he snapped, "_I'll_ do the monkeys."

It had taken years of gentle and consistent practise and yet irritating the crap out of Sam had yet to grow old. Instead Dean simply hopped down from the ice-cream cart and threw the rest back inside, brushing sticky hands down the sides of his jacket and letting out a long sigh, it was salting time.

"All right," he drawled, swiping the map from his brother's hand and silently memorising the route, "Time to cut this bitch off."

Handing the paper back, he bent and collected up his sack of salt with a groan of exertion, turning and starting to head off into the darkness,

"…and when this is all done, first thing I'm going to do is see the walk-under aquarium," he shouted from over his shoulder before stopping and adding a little more seriously, "Hey, George of the Jungle,"

Sam blinked, assuming the shout was for him and allowing himself a small smile at his brother's back,

"Yeah?"

"You going to be all right?"

"They're _monkeys_ Dean," They both knew it didn't answer the question. Sam sighed, the exhalation more fond than annoyed, "Yeah. You?"

"Just call me Tarzan Sammy."

Sam snorted. Great, images of Dean in a loincloth. Just what he needed. He pulled a face in protest, bending to collect up his own supply of salt as his brother evaporated into the night, a vague frown forming across his face. Wait, Dean wanted to see the aquarium? _Weird_.

He completely missed the figure standing in the undergrowth behind him, dark eyes watching above a mouth of grinning teeth, a silky voice slithering across her lips.

"It's playtime boys."

* * *

Although you'll have to wait a bit longer for the capuchin, there's some dangerous things lurking around first! In fact, I think Sam gets off pretty lightly considering!

Thank yous go out to my lovely reviewers, and if anyone else wants to drop me a line it would more than make my snowy (again - what's with the bloody weather in this country?) little day!


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three.**

The big cat enclosures were fairly easily found, zoo management obviously seeing them as some big lure and making sure both paths and signs all pointed towards their feline exhibits. Ice cream carts – evidently another a big lure – also dotted the route and without Sam to act as his parole officer Dean was pretty free to gorge, although not_ one_ seemed to have any damn chocolate, nor did the bag of salt slung over one shoulder and the flashlight clutched in his hand make the process of finding one any easier.

Beyond him the pens and cages sat quiet and dark, either high-rimmed pits of nearly natural habitat or else thick solid bars set back from the visitor pathways by railings and heavy-duty ditches the preventative measures softened by little information boards flanking the enclosures and adorned with each animals' picture, name and some basic species facts. The ability to, and preference for eating humans did not seem to be mentioned.

Skirting around the pathways dotted with brightly stencilled paw-prints denoting some sort of viewing order, Dean headed towards the tiger enclosure figuring it as good a place as any to start. If Bobby wanted the most dangerous things salted out of demon reach first, then it seemed sensible to start with the ones that had already fallen under her influence.

Unsurprisingly the entrance to the tiger 'experience' was closed, an apology notice pinned up alongside it. Dean snorted. If the 'experience' had anything to do with being eaten then he strongly doubted any visitor much minded the sudden change. Although it certainly gave a whole new meaning to taking the kids out to lunch_._

Bending to unpick the lock, Dean couldn't help the smile of self-derision that slid across his face, almost shaking his head in disbelief. It was ironic really. Ever since he was a tiny kid he'd wanted to visit the zoo, had been promised a trip by their dad too until…that night. John seemed to forget the promise after that. For a while when he was eight, he thought he'd get another chance when the school he and Sam had temporarily been at had organised it as a field trip, only to find out the day before they went that John had a new case that needed them packed up and shipped out that same evening. Blowing his chances. Again.

Still, Dean had told himself as he'd pushed his disappointment back over and over, some things were just more important. He hardly thought that he'd get his chance all of two decades later. Who would have? But since they were there he was making damn sure he took in as much as he could. The aquarium included. He was no slouch, he'd read the brochure before they'd arrived, he'd seen the picture of the domed fish tank with the tunnel running through it, read about it's claims to be the biggest aquarium in the state. Demon or no demon, he was seeing it. If he was finally getting to visit a zoo, he was doing it properly.

The door gave way with an abrupt click, swinging open easily and allowing Dean through into the public gallery running the perimeter of the tiger pen. It was empty, the animals all sheltered away within the confines of indoor compartments which were going to need salting as well as everything else. Sighing, he took out the flick-knife he kept tucked in his jeans, slicing into the bag of salt and starting the long process of trailing a neat steady line around the enclosure. It didn't take long, not given his wealth of experience salting, and the same went for the locked door into the tiger house which was solved more with brute strength and the butt of his gun rather than patience and application. He could almost picture Sam rolling his eyes, but as long as it got him inside then he really didn't care.

He started off at the far end, picking his way carefully down the row of thick barred doors, tiptoeing despite himself and trying to ignore the wide-eyed orbs that stared out at him in the bright beam of the flashlight. Suddenly, he was less than keen to see the tigers and as one moved curiously towards the bars, rustling the straw under its paws and standing startlingly tall in the dark, Dean swallowed and tried to regain his customary bravado.

"Here kitty, kitty. Fresh meat," he whispered, knowing full well the tiger could not appreciate the sarcastic tone but the bite of dark humour strengthening his nerve. He suddenly regretted his earlier jibes about the mauling, suppressing a shudder. _What a way to go_.

Pushing aside his fears, Dean heaved the bag of salt onto it's side and started to slowly walk backwards, letting the fine grains cascade onto the floor, sweeping them along the concrete until they poured together to form a thick barrier.

"Get through this bitch."

It was the low grumble of a growl that first drew his attention, the salt trail going dry as Dean's pouring stopped dead, heart lurching as if it had been gripped hard by a fist.

_That didn't sound good._

As he looked up slowly, one hand instinctively rounded to close fingers about the gun tucked into his waistband, the feeling of steel underneath his fingertips instantly comforting. If, and only _if_ one of the tigers happened to suddenly be free – which it had no reason to be – then he was fairly confident one well-placed shot would be his best chance. But that was if one of them had gotten out of its pen, and there was no way –

_Crap._

He stopped dead.

Standing right in front of him, crouched low, unnervingly still and continuing to grumble from the back of its throat in a noise not unlike the Impala, was a tiger. A big one.

"Holy – !"

They both moved at the same time, Dean stumbling backwards, flashlight pointing wildly at an unhelpful point on the ceiling as he instead grappled the gun free and attempted to aim it forwards.

He barely had time to position his finger around the trigger before the flash of orange was upon him with a scratch of sharp nails on concrete. Luckily for him however, years of hunting werewolves and wendigos had not been in vain and at the last minute he threw himself sideways, a gust of air whistling past his face as the tiger took a ferocious swipe, missing him by a hair's breadth.

Rolling backwards and rocking up onto his feet in a wary crouch, Dean again positioned the gun, bringing the wildly swinging flashlight up onto the big cat.

How in the hell had it gotten out? Surely the keepers hadn't been stupid enough to leave a cage door open, not so soon after one of them had been made into human cuisine. It had to be Diana, which meant she had to be somewhere near and probably loving every minute of his impending doom.

As the tiger spun towards him, pacing irritably, tail twitching like a whip behind it, Dean formulated a quick and by no means perfect plan that involved running for the door as fast as he could after somehow distracting the big thing trying to eat him.

Swallowing, he slowly inched out a hand, gripping the edge of the bag of salt and pulling it towards him whilst simultaneously juggling the gun and flashlight _and_ trying not to spur the beast in front of him into an attack. The latter lasted all of about ten seconds. Abruptly and almost as if provoked, the tiger suddenly shot forward again, springing towards him with such speed and ferocity that Dean almost tumbled over backwards in anticipation.

Instead however, he did what years of experience had taught him; he fought back, bringing the gun up to connect with the tiger's skull before throwing a handful of salt into it's eyes. It fell away quickly, but not before snagging Dean's jacket and sinking claws into his forearms.

That was going to hurt in the morning.

As soon as it had reeled back however Dean took his chance, exploding up from the floor and pelting down the corridor towards the entrance, dragging the salt behind him.

It didn't take long to realise he wasn't going to make it and as he passed by the open door to the tiger's enclosure, he grabbed hold of it and ducked behind it like a shield, using the bars as a barrier on one side and the exterior wall of the building as the other. He was so close he could almost taste freedom. The only problem was the tiger could almost taste him, jabbing claws through the bars and catching his clothes as Dean desperately tried to think.

Damn demon. She had to be controlling the thing from somewhere. Somewhere close. In fact, Dean snorted wryly, she was probably just outside –

Sudden inspiration struck him.

If Diana was outside somewhere, controlling the beast through the walls, then there was one thing that would stop her. A barrier of salt, ironically the one thing in the entire zoo strong enough to block her out.

Crouching down as close as he could to the wall to avoid any repeated onslaught of claws in his tiny little sanctuary, Dean dipped his hand into the bag of salt and reached through the bars to the main door just inches from where he cowered. Gently, and without any sudden movements, he started to trickle his handful in a little line before the threshold, scooping more out as he drew a thick white mark along the floor.

Glancing up he could see the tiger starting to mellow, the pacing turning to more of a walk than a stalk, the demon's influence wearing off. One last assault at Dean's tiny safe corner – obviously as Diana realised she was being somehow shut out – and that was it, the tiger was bizarrely subdued even going so far as to sit down in the middle of the corridor and close its eyes. Obviously, when they'd been hand-reared they'd been pretty well tamed. Not that it made Dean any happier about pushing the cage door closed and stepping out into the open, breath most definitely held.

The tiger ignored him completely, leaving him free to scuttle out into the night again, stepping over his salt line and slamming the keeper's access door firmly shut behind him.

Thank God for the salt.

As he stood taking deep breaths, he returned the gun to his waistband and instead moved to grip the little flask of holy water tucked in his pocket. He already knew Diana was around and he wasn't taking any chances. Which also meant he needed to hurry up and get the rest of the big cats salted. He didn't exactly fancy round two.

Besides, he thought as he heaved the big bag of salt up into his arms like a hefty baby, Sam was wandering about on his own and if his little brother was anything then it was a walking demon target. If there was trouble about, Sam would find it.

And that was what worried him.

* * *

Not a lot of dialogue there, so I hope the descriptions made enough sense. Basically, Dean got attacked by a tiger but is okay!

As for the monkey, well next we're heading off to find Bobby – who's got problems of his own both four-legged and two-legged – and _then_ it's off to the monkeys!

As ever thanks for letting me know what you think and please continue to (it's still snowing here by the way and the magic is most _definitely_ starting to wear off! Still, gives me time to write I guess!)


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four.**

Bobby crouched low against the window, ducking to keep the brim of his cap from popping up into the open and watching as a bright blue light pulsed steadily around the room.

They were supposed to be hunting a demon, they didn't have time for unannounced visits from the local PD. Besides which, Sam and Dean had both slipped off into the darkness leaving him to hold the fort at the entrance. He'd only taken three steps inside before the damn patrol car had drawn up. How was that for timing?

He shook his head irritably.

That yahoo, setting light to the alarm system. What in the hell was he thinking?

That boy was due an untimely boot up his ass. Once he'd gotten rid of the cops that was.

As the yellow of police flashlights shone into the ticket office, Bobby cleared his throat, crawled along into the shadows and climbed with a groan of impending age to his feet. Composing himself he waited for a split second and then stepped out into the open.

"Freeze!"

Holding his arms up in the air and trying to look submissive around a perpetually irritable face, Bobby stepped forward, eyes wide with forced alarm,

"Whoa, whoa! Easy there fellas."

The two policemen standing in front of him were young, guns drawn in front of them and pointed in his direction but definite uncertainty stamped across their faces.

"Get down on your knees!" came the command, although there was a tremor in the voice; new blood. Perfect, "Get down!"

Bobby took another step forward, chancing his luck but refusing to get onto the floor – partly because these days he could never be too sure about getting up again.

"Look son," he began instead, tone soft and just a little authoritative, "Cool it okay? I'm security."

The surprise was evident,

"You are? _You_?"

He didn't add _old-timer_ on the end but it was certainly implied. Bobby took a deep steadying breath,

"Yeah, so just put the guns down okay?"

For a second the cops exchanged glances, edging fractionally closer as if intrigued. The vaguely more senior of the two frowned,

"Got any I.D?"

"Sure."

Keeping one hand up in the air, Bobby lowered the other into the pocket of his battered old jacket, fishing out a laminated identification card and slowly leaning forward to hand it over. The cop practically snatched it from him.

"Kevin McAllister. Prestige Guards," he looked up with a hint of disbelief, his younger partner voicing the prominent thought on both their minds,

"You don't look much like security to me."

And he probably didn't in an old cap, jeans, shirt and sleeveless vest. Still, he hadn't been in the game for as long as he had without learning to act whatever part he was playing and he drew himself up tall with an indignity that wasn't entirely feigned.

"Well, how am I supposed to look boy?" he snapped, stressing the last word, "This is a zoo. It's not just break-ins you gotta worry about here. It's break-_outs_. You think I'm gonna wrangle gators in some fancy-pants uniform? Use your head."

He sounded so scathing that the young man actually nodded in a startled apology. Reluctantly the other cop handed back the I.D, still looking a little sceptical.

"Someone set off the internal alarm," he said straight-faced, looking to be further convinced about the whole thing. Bobby didn't blink.

"Emu."

It was not the answer either cop had expected,

"Emu?"

"Yep," came the affirmative nod, "Damn sucker flew straight over the fence."

More doubt,

"Into the gift shop?"

"Well…that's where we keep the visitor feed,"

"Oh…I thought emus couldn't fly."

_Damn._ Covering his hesitation, Bobby simply snorted, trying to sound derisory,

"Tell that to the cowboy who put the fence up. Now if you don't mind fellas, I've got a bird to catch."

The younger cop seemed suddenly keen to help, holstering his gun and stepping forward,

"Need a hand?"

_Yeah. Right_.

"Ah, no thanks son, those suckers can pack a mean kick. Need an experienced set of hands. I'm just sorry you men got called out for nothing."

The senior officer still looked a little doubtful, rooted to the stop, smelling some sort of rat. Luckily for Bobby however another arrival drew both their attention as the younger man suddenly pulled free his gun again and pointed it at Bobby, wide-eyed with terror. His hands rose instantly in response,

"Hey. Come on now – ,"

"Behind you."

"Huh?"

It took a second for Bobby to realise that neither set of eyes was turned towards him, instead fixed at a point beyond his shoulder. Slowly, hands still held up in defenceless uncertainty, Bobby pivoted, spinning on his heel and staring back into the darkness of the park entrance, past the little ticket booths and into the expanse of the gift-shop.

Where, stood back from them crouching low in the shadows, hackles up, was a wolf.

_Aw hell. _

And it was bad in more ways than having an angry wolf staring them down, because suddenly it rocked Bobby's credibility to the core. What kind of security guard let both an emu and a wolf escape seemingly simultaneously? On top of which it was looking increasingly likely that he was going to get one of the animals shot. That hadn't been part of the deal and with that in mind, Bobby did the only thing he could think of, he laughed.

"Aw don't be afraid of him boys. That's just Fang,"

Both officers blinked at him, aim of the guns dropping just a fraction in confusion,

"Fang?"

All right, it was a crappy name, but he was under pressure after all. He forced a smile, not letting either man see as he inched his fingers around the gun tucked in the band of his jeans.

"Sure," he continued cheerfully, one ear listening out for any signs of wolf-related movement. Last thing he needed was to be mauled from behind, "Raised him myself from a pup."

"He's – ," the senior cop stopped mid-sentence, trying to make sense of the sudden turn in events and sharing a glance with his equally bewildered partner, "He's yours?"

Bobby shrugged, the movement jerking slightly across his tense shoulders,

"Bout as much as an animal like that can be. He's gentle as a lamb."

In the silence that followed all three men turned quietly towards the crouching carnivore, Bobby narrowing his eyes in an attempt to try and read it's intentions. It didn't seem to be doing anything. Maybe Diana hadn't sent it after all. Knowing his luck it was more likely to be either Sam or Dean screwing up. Probably Dean.

"Well how about that?" the young cop breathed suddenly, drawing him back to the present as he dropped down into a squat, looking suitably impressed as he reached a hand forward, "Here boy."

As the first officer and Bobby both instantly – and unbeknown to the other – held their breath, the wolf took a step towards them, the older hunter catching the ripple of its lip a fraction before the cops and suddenly leaping in front of them, slamming his fist on the door release and watching the glass entry swing closed just as the wolf barrelled towards them, teeth glinting.

It slammed into the door with a thud, and the young officer toppled backwards onto his backside at the sudden shock, peering quizzically at the snarling beast trapped behind the glass and then up at the security guard grinning awkwardly between them.

"We're still training him," Bobby offered with a cheerful shrug, "It's a work in progress."

"Y – yeah."

_So much for gentle as a lamb._

Heaving a sigh the older officer bent low, collecting his partner up by the arm and hauling him to his feet,

"Come on, dispatch is calling."

Clearly they had better things to do than hang around at the zoo being attacked by animals and chastised by crazy old security guys. He still looked less than convinced about the last part however, and as Bobby waved them off as casually as he could, the hunter stifled a sigh of his own. The second they got back into the car they were going to be running checks on him and his fake identity. His false 'company' answering machine message would hold them for a bit but their whole arrival meant that he and boys had limited time to play with. The faster they got done and got clear of damn place the better.

As the squad car spun out of the car park, Bobby pulled free his spare gun, lamenting the rifle he'd left propped inside by the window.

The next question was what in God's name to do.

How exactly were you meant to subdue a rabid and possessed wolf without shooting it?

He sighed, readjusting first his cap and then the waistband of his jeans before starting towards the gift-shop with a world-weary stalk and a look of determination.

_Only one way to find out... _

* * *

And that was Bobby's little predicament. Next comes Sam's big moment with the monkey…just don't expect as much of a hard time as the other two got. Sam's is more a case of being out-smarted and, well, you'll just have to read the next chapter to find out how!

Huggles to all my reviewers!


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five.**

Sam had actually been quite pleased he'd taken the monkey option away from his brother, knowing that Dean probably would have spent as much time salting as he would have done repeating lines from King Kong, comparing the various remakes and auditioning the park's primates for an imaginary version of his own. Besides, Sam wasn't much of a cat person anyway, not after being repeatedly swiped and bitten by the vaguely psychotic one Jessica's roommate had owned in the early days of their relationship before they'd moved in together. That thing had made Genghis Khan look mild-mannered. No, he was sticking to monkeys.

He'd started off systemically, working his way through biggest and most dangerous before Diana could try to use them, salting the gorillas and mandrills before working his way down to the smaller inhabitants of the primate sector and finally ending up at the capuchin enclosure with what little remained of his salt.

Straightening up he let a wince cross his face, gulping against the sudden pain after being hunched over for so long. Salting might have worked wonders for demon possession but it also seemed to attract suspiciously arthritic bouts of stiffness and muscle-seizure. Sam took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders to loosen the joints and starting as he opened his eyes straight into the gaze of someone else. Something else. A little capuchin monkey, sitting on a shelf specially erected beside the bars and peering at him quizzically, head tilted to one side.

"Hey there little guy," Sam cooed at it, adopting a ridiculous babying tone despite himself. It was pretty darn cute, staring straight back at him with big round orbs that would have melted even the hardest of hearts. It didn't move an inch and as Sam cast around, he spotted a little chunk of food that had fallen through the bars into the shallow ditch that ran around the cage. He bent to collect it at once, offering it through the metal partition in his fingertips, "You want this?"

It crept forward cautiously, one black-gloved paw outstretched in his direction, the back feet inching a little more slowly. It took the morsel from him in a sudden snatch, scuttling backwards a few paces with its prize and rocking onto it's back feet as it crouched and started to tuck in, both paws clenched protectively around the treat as it started to gnaw with it's teeth. Sam smiled, daring to admit Dean was right. It was pretty cool being in a zoo at night, no screaming kids, no dropped ice creams or balloons floating off into the distance. Empty.

Sighing he brushed his hands off on the legs of his jeans, stooping to grab the last of the salt and pressing his side against the enclosure bars as the ground sloped away from under him in an attempt at a visitor-proof trench. Not that most visitors needed to salt a line around the exhibits.

As the last few white grains rolled free of the bag, Sam straightened up and stepped back, admiring his handiwork. _Monkeys, check._There was another thing Diana couldn't use against people anymore, and suddenly her list was getting thin. The thought made him smile in grim amusement and he looked up into the cage at his friendly little capuchin again, now crouched lower down next to where Sam had been moments before. In it's little paws it seemed to be holding something familiar, something…

_Oh crap._

"Hey!"

As Sam darted towards the bars in sudden realisation the monkey darted away, the others dotted around in the enclosure scattering too at his shout. Stumbling to his knees next to the cage, Sam reached his hand in through the bars, stretching in up to his shoulder, fingers scrabbling uselessly in the dirt as if he might be able to pull himself in just a little bit further. He couldn't and as if to make the situation worse, the monkey wandered back and sat a hair's breadth away from his hand, grinning.

_Smug little – _

"Sam?" It came out with an audible frown and pulling his hand back out into the open, Sam turned towards the crumpled face of his older brother, regarding him with curiosity as he lent across the outer wall railings, "What are you doing?"

Instead of an answer the youngest Winchester simply sat back on his heels, damp earth starting to soak through the lower legs of his jeans, rubbing the dusty palm of his hand against his jacket, a look of sheer misery on his face. Dean's frown deepened in confusion,

"What?"

"The monkey," came the sullen reply, half-muttered. Dean peered past him into the cage, still not following.

"Yeah, what about it?"

Sam's head hung low, shoulders accentuating his heaved sigh, part embarrassment, part annoyance.

"It took my wallet."

"What?" Slowly Dean looked across at the grinning capuchin, staring between the little animal and his pitiful-looking brother. Sure enough, gripped in the monkey's tiny little black fingers was Sam's leather wallet. It was chewing on it too – just to make matters worse and for a second Dean couldn't adequately process what was happening. He shook his head, bemused, "I'm sorry," he began carefully, tone incredulous as he appealed for clarification, "You were mugged by _that_?" it quickly turned to exasperated irritation, "_Sam_ – ,"

"How was I supposed to know?!" his brother hissed back defensively, the protest sounding more like a whine as Sam threw his hands wide, the action stopping short as the younger hunter took in the claw-marks tearing sideways through the sleeve of Dean's jacket, joined by a series of matching puncture marks on his upper arms, the material already turned dark by the tint of blood. Instantly his own predicament faded under a frown of concern, "What happened to you?"

"I was Siegfried and Roy'd that's what," came the biting reply, more pissed than pained. Sam's gaze widened,

"You were attacked?" A slight wince on his brother's behalf, "You okay?"

"Fine," Dean snapped back in _quit worrying_ tones, "Except kitty definitely wasn't after my wallet."

Sam's wince stayed firmly on the torn sleeves despite the assurances, sympathy playing across his face.

"Yeah."

But Dean didn't seem overly worried about his injuries, turning instead towards the entrance of the exhibit and waving a hand in his brother's direction,

"Come on, we need to find Bobby."

"What? But, Dean – ," Sam blinked, gesturing limply towards the capuchin enclosure, aware that his voice sounded unbelievably childish with insistence, "My wallet – ,"

"Leave it," Dean interrupted briskly.

"But – ,"

"I _said_ leave it Sam," his tone was deadly, telling Sam not to push it further. He complied, instead pushing himself reluctantly to his feet, face one of hangdog defeat. He turned it knowingly towards his older brother, instantly getting the long sigh of exasperation he had heard so many times before. Dean never could resist that expression, "Look Sammy," he began again with added gentleness and a coaxing element, "That wallet wasn't yours."

Sam frowned,

"Huh?"

"It was Sam _Benedict's_, remember? His insurance, his social security details, his credit cards. Not yours. So losing it? Not a big deal, okay?"

Dean was right and judging by the look on his face he knew it too. Sam sighed,

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, can we get going already?"

Sam nodded, casting one last look back at the capuchin as he went, swinging his legs over the railings and landing on the concrete beside Dean, who seemed to have his attention turned in another direction.

"Dude!" he was facing the gorilla cage, enraptured, "It _is_ King Kong."

Sam grabbed a handful of the torn jacket marching past and dragging his brother with him, more than keen to leave the monkey exhibition and it's crafty little pickpockets behind.

"Yeah," he intoned, dead-pan, "Come on."

They met up with Bobby on the zoo crossroads, winding paths snaking off towards the different parts of the park. The older hunter drew in a breath as he saw them, nodding towards Dean's ripped jacket.

"Wolves?" he asked quickly, assessing the injuries with a single gaze. The boy would live.

"No," A pause, "_Wolves_?"

"Not anymore," came the reply as Bobby threw an empty sack of salt down onto the ground before them, catching sight of Sam's grumpy expression at the same time and glancing at Dean, "What's eating him?"

"Monkey stole his wallet."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

"So," Sam began quickly, by-passing the confusion to get back to the job at hand, "Bobby, we done? I mean, I did monkeys and Dean did cats, if you've done the wolves there can't be anything left to salt."

He was looking at the zoo map as he spoke, eyes scanning each of the areas in turn and finding nothing else that rang alarm bells. Bobby scratched at his beard absently, mentally running through his tick-list,

"One of you boys did the bears right?"

A shared look between the brothers gave him his answer,

"Bears?" repeated Dean, "What bears?"

As the older hunter let out an audible groan Sam stepped towards him still holding out the map, tone a little rushed with the sudden onset of mild panic,

"Bobby it doesn't mention bears anywhere on here,"

"Well of course not!" came the biting response, "They're polar bears. Didn't either of you think to check the ice exhibit?"

Dean seemed offended, his brow slipping into a frown,

"Well you didn't either."

"How in the hell could I when I was busy with the cops?"

"The cops?"

"Yeah," Bobby replied, tone dripping with angry sarcasm, "Apparently someone tripped the alarm in the gift-shop. Remind me to kick your ass for that later."

"Does anyone have any salt left?" Sam asked, ignoring the bickering with ease to look between them.

"Not much," Dean replied, pulling what was left of his bag out from where it was draped over the band of his jeans. He was right, it wasn't much at all. Sam shared a look with Bobby.

"Think it'll be enough?"

"It'll have to be," came the sigh as Bobby hefted the shotgun up into his arms and set his cap low, "You boys just better hope Diana hasn't beaten us to it."

* * *

What are the chances she has do you think? Hmmm…

Anyway, so there's your monkey folks, only it's not done just yet. Expect to see the tricky lil' fella reappear a bit later for a second cameo!

P.S. The Siegfried and Roy joke, okay a bit black maybe but it felt kinda Dean-y so I went with it. Forgive me!


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six.**

Although billed as the 'ice exhibit' there was actually very little ice or snow about when they hit the enclosures, just big pools of water surrounded by walls of rock-substitute, and pictures of what the arctic really looked like on the information boards positioned behind the railings. It was hardly a home from home.

With Dean leading the way in front of Sam and Bobby – a strange order of assault they had fallen into over the months without the need for discussion – the trio picked their way around the exhibition, skirting the penguins and seals without much cause for concern. They had bigger fish to fry.

The whole place was quiet. Too quiet. Nothing chattered, nothing stared out at them, nothing moved. It was as if the area was completely deserted. Only they knew it wasn't. Crossing the concrete as quickly and softly as they could, Dean came to a stop beside the high walls of the polar bear enclosure, pulling out the salt and beginning to trail as much of it as he could around the perimeter. Bobby dropped to his knees, attempting to push the meagre supplies into a viable line while Sam cast the steady beam of his flashlight onto the proceedings and held his breath.

A faint noise from behind them made him pause, slowly turning on his heel and pointing the beam of light into the darkness behind him.

"Sam?" Dean questioned, scrabbling at the salt with his foot and trying not to feel the bag growing ever lighter in his hands, "A little light here?"

Instantly shaken from his suspicions and seeing nothing behind them, Sam turned back, coming to an abrupt realisation as the torch flashed over the grains lining the floor. Dean obviously thought it too,

"It's not going to be enough Bobby,"

"I know damn it!" came the snappy reply, followed by a long sigh of impatience, "Just, let me think."

"One of us will have to go back to the truck," Sam supplied in the silence, "You've got more right?"

"Yeah, but – ,"

"Well okay then, I'll just go and grab another bag."

Dean frowned, his expression slipping into a disbelieving scowl,

"What? Sam, are you nuts? Diana's still out there turning things loose! No way, you hear me? I say we track her Noah's-ark-ass down and waste her. Simple as that."

Bobby paused, staring between the glaring brothers and aware that his was the casting vote. Sam's theory made sense, after all, the crux of the plan had been salting everything dangerous so it couldn't come to Diana's aid mid-fight, but Dean was right there too, it was just too damn dangerous. They'd salted all the big things, but what if she'd let loose some deadly spider or something. No, they were definitely stronger as a unit. Which meant Dean's plan was the only option they had left, short of high-tailing it out of there and that was no option at all. He sighed heavily,

"Look, I think – ,"

"Bobby?"

At Sam's sudden interruption, the older hunter frowned in annoyance, turning to send the younger man a vicious glare and only faltering as he noticed the look of shock hung under the shaggy dark hair, matched in incredulity by Dean, who quickly rose his gun to a point over Bobby's shoulder. _Not a good sign, not a good sign at all_.

A heavy padding sound drew his attention and reluctantly he turned his back to the boys in order to follow their stricken gaze. He also jumped on sight. A polar bear was standing behind him, raised onto it's hind legs and looming over so large it was like standing under a skyscraper, tilting Bobby's hat back as he craned his neck to peer upwards. Forget salting, they were too late.

"Aw hell,"

No other words would do and suddenly Dean was asking him for instructions.

"Bobby?" He wanted to know whether or not to shot, tone hardening at the lack of response, "_Bobby_."

In the end however, it was not the hunter that answered at all, instead a deep, silky and decidedly feminine voice as a slim blonde dressed in a keeper's uniform stepped out from behind the bear's bulk.

"I wouldn't if I were you," she purred, running a tongue across her teeth as she grinned, "You'll just make him angry."

"Diana."

It came out as a gruff accusation and abruptly the woman smiled, turning temptress' eyes towards the bearded hunter before her,

"Nice to see you too Bobby, although, you've filled out a little since our last encounter. I on the other hand…" she paused to sweep fingers down her possessed body, tracing the hourglass silhouette with the heels of her hands, "…Look fantastic."

Bobby didn't even flinch, his expression stony.

"How was hell?"

Diana shrugged, her casual nonchalance a stark contrast to the tension running through the grouped hunters. She examined her fingernails absently,

"A drag," she sighed, "Although you can hardly expect anything else. It is eternal damnation after all. Or not so eternal as it turns out. Thanks for helping to open the devil's trap by the way boys. Couldn't have done it without you."

Dean grit his teeth as a pulse of anger washed over him, gun still trained on the polar bear's heart. Why were demons so damned sarcastic?

"Get used to it bitch. We're sending you back."

Diana laughed, taking the wind out of Dean's bravado with her very un-frightened sounding chuckle,

"Oh darling," she soothed, sighing almost wistfully, "I really don't think so."

They registered the movement behind them just a fraction of a second too late, spinning as another bear loomed up out of the gloom and swiped big a paw-pad across Bobby's chest, sending him tumbling to the ground where he hit his head with a groan and lay unnaturally still.

"Bobby!"

As Sam started towards his fallen friend, he barely had time to move before the bear brought back its gigantic paw and back-handed the gun from Dean's hand in a swift motion, standing before them suddenly still and positively glowering. It was waiting for orders. Behind them, Diana giggled again, clapping her hands in delight,

"Well now," she breathed, "Isn't this fun?" as she spoke she tucked the bear beside her under the chin, reaching up to scratch at the white fur. It didn't move, it didn't even blink, "We'll just wait for Bobby to wake up and then we can really get the party started. You see," she continued, closing the distance between them, eyes on Dean, fingers running lazily across the collar of his jacket, "Your little friend killed quite a few of my furred charges last time. It's only fair I return the favour. Starting with you."

Reaching up, Dean quickly caught her hand, watching her eyes harden as they locked with his.

"Sorry," he smirked back, "Buffet's closed."

"We'll see."

Sam was still crouched beside Bobby, one hand pressed gently to his neck, feeling the pulse beating away under the skin as he glanced up at his brother and the demon. Dean shot him a glance, and instantly Sam knew that his brother's brain was working away at a plan. Which – knowing Dean – would be something outrageous, not that they had the time to argue about the merits of dangerous plans. They were pretty screwed after all. Instead he simply sat quietly beside Bobby and waited for instructions, if Dean so much as blinked in his direction he'd be ready for it.

The eldest Winchester was still smirking,

"Sweetheart," false affection, always a sure sign Dean was gearing up for a put-down, "These fluffy teddies of yours don't scare me one bit. I've killed rats with more bite."

Sam frowned, strongly doubting the case but aware that Dean was angling towards something, a suspicion confirmed when Dean's eyes slid in his direction, denoting Bobby's dropped shotgun. Sam slid his fingers around it slowly, not entirely sure what to do with it.

Diana was still staring across at the hunter, intrigued, amused and just a little irritated,

"Is that so?" she snapped, raising a hand to stroke absently at the bear to her side. Obviously they were her weak spot, and Dean had somehow worked that out.

"Yeah, besides, you want me…?" he tailed off, taking a step towards Sam, fingers tensing, "You're going to have to catch me first,"

Abruptly, Dean threw himself sideways, ducking low and rolling across the ground to miss the club-like paw as the bear behind him lashed out. Holding out one hand, Sam threw him the shotgun, watching his brother dash past with a hastily shouted sentence,

"Get Bobby's cross, meet me at the aquarium,"

And then he was off, running across the pathways Diana's angry voice calling out across the darkness as she ordered her bears into action like an eccentric Bond villain.

"After him! And you…" suddenly she was pointing at Sam, eyes ablaze with fury as he staggered to his feet, "…stay here. Or else."

She didn't exactly care to specify what _or else_ was though, instead clicking her fingers in some sort of summons, the eyes flashing solid black again. Sam frowned. What was she doing this time? Although he didn't need to wait long for his answer because the next minute there was a hiss and he turned just in time to miss the biting strike of a cobra, raised high upon it's tail, beady black eyes boring mesmerising holes into his own.

"I'll be back for you later."

As Diana stalked off into the darkness after Dean, Sam swallowed, feigning right and watching as the snake second guessed him, spitting something towards him that landed by his foot. A warning.

Suddenly he yearned for the polar bears back.

The sound of a soft groan behind caught his attention and he half-turned his head wide-eyed and breathless,

"Bobby?"

Silence greeted him and as he went to step towards his fellow hunter the snake lunged again, connecting with the tip of his boot and sending him tumbling backwards with a yelp of surprise. He didn't have time for this, Dean was chasing through the park with a demon and two polar bears hot on his heels and a mad and abnormally fast cobra was cornering his only source of help.

Bending down Sam quickly scooped up Dean's discarded gun, holding it up tentatively. He didn't want to have to shoot one of the zoo's animals, after all, it was as good as shooting someone's pet. Knowing his luck a field trip of seven year olds would be the first ones to discover it in the morning, which would probably traumatise them for life.

But as the snake launched for him again, and with Dean still alone somewhere in the dark and expecting back up, it left Sam with very little choice except to set his face and pull the trigger.

The shot blast the snake's head clear off its body, sending a hail of reptile through the air like the victim of some gruesome internal explosion. Sam blinked, letting out a long breath and listening as the groan to his side got louder. He turned at once. Bobby was awake, lying uncomfortably on one side and staring towards the pile of cobra with a look of surprise and a hand to his throbbing head.

"Bobby," Quickly Sam was by his side, crouching low with a hand pressed gently to the older man's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

He peered up at Sam incredulous,

"Am _I_ okay? Son, you just shot a snake!"

Sam frowned, not sure whether the other man was pissed or confused. Probably both, which was something they didn't have time for.

"Come on," bearing most of the shorter man's weight, Sam gripped tight to Bobby's arm, effectively hauling him to his feet with a grimace of effort, then hovering close as the older hunter gradually found his balance, "You still got your cross?" he asked breathlessly, earning a nod,

"Yeah," A quizzical look around, "Where's Dean?"

"The aquarium,"

"The _aquarium_? What in the hell is he doing there?" Letting go of Bobby's shirt and taking the solid wooden cross offered out to him, Sam shook his head, turning to stalk off and knowing that Bobby would sense the urgency and follow his lead, "And where's Diana? Where are the bears?"

"With him," Sam replied gruffly, tucking the gun into the band of his jeans and picking up speed,

"With him?" repeated Bobby, going for some sort of record in incredulousness, "They're _with _him?"

"Yeah."

Sam looked about as grim as Bobby had ever seen him and he didn't doubt why. Diana better not have done a single thing to hurt Dean Winchester, or she was going to have one pissed as hell little brother to contend with.

He sighed as he followed Sam's lead, brisk walk turning to a trot as he tried to match the pace. Yep, he was sure of it, those boys were going to be the death of him.

They were definitely going to be the death of each other.

* * *

Okay, now am officially snowed-in, getting pretty fed-up with the big freeze! Reviews will warm my cold little heart though! (ad nauseam!)


	8. Chapter Seven

Before we start, disbelief may need to be suspended. But I invoke the rights of fiction and for the purposes of action and a big showdown all the things written below are possible! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seven.**

Dean ran. Which was all he could do given the two bears following close behind him, their paws lumbering across the ground just a few feet away, their chase only slowed by the series of doors and ticket barriers Dean was picking his way through, each a lifeline giving him the few vital seconds he needed to get to the aquarium.

It was by no means his best plan but then again he'd hardly had time to formulate the finer points. It was either going to work or it wasn't, only he wouldn't know either way until it was too late. Still, he'd done crazier things…_surely_?

As the multi-coloured paw prints painted onto the ground before him gradually faded into little drawings of bright tropical fish, Dean resisted the urge to throw a skip of elation into his step, noting as the pounding again grew louder behind him. He was pretty sure both bears could have both outstripped him if they'd wanted, but for some reason Diana was having them hang back a little. God only knew what for but Dean wasn't going to question it while he still had ground to cover.

Up before them a tall domed building was starting to rise up out of the ground, a set of double doors blocking their entry. Never slowing his speed, Dean pelted towards it, bringing the shotgun up out in front of him and firing, watching as the lock fell away in a clean hit. If Yogi and Boo-Boo's arctic cousins hadn't been close enough to catch the bottoms of his heels he might even have grinned in self-congratulations at a shot well taken. As it was he simply dove headfirst through the newly released doors and into the body of the aquarium itself, breathing heavily.

They were standing in the long winding walkway that the zoo's pamphlets had made so much of, a dark tunnel cut straight through the bottom of the sea-spectacular, ripples of light reflecting down from the water and playing gently across the dark carpet while over-head swam fish of varying shape, size and colour. Impressive, or at least it would have been if he'd had the time to sightsee. As it was his footsteps thundered loudly around the curved glass walls as he ran, the rubber of his boot soles creating an almost comical bouncing noise, as if Tigger had somehow joined the chase behind him.

_He's bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun –_

The tiger he'd met earlier had been anything but.

As a sign before him loomed overhead, denoting the shark tank and with a pointy-arrow shaped like a fin, Dean skidded to a halt not wanting to go quite that far. There was no point in dodging death by bears only to end up as a midnight feast for a hammerhead. The tropical fish tank was far enough. Stopping dead, digging his heels into the thick and well-worn carpet, Dean spun on his toes turning the shotgun back up the way he had come and quickly loading in another round.

The bears were right there slowing on instinct, their lolloping gait turning into steady but thunderous tread, their shaggy paws sending little tremors of weight through the flooring. They came to a halt about twenty feet away and for a moment nobody moved. They were waiting.

It took Diana less than a minute to emerge from the unlit gloom, flowing between the bears and brushing her fingers lightly across the fur at each of the beast's nape in some sort of gesture for having cornered their prey so well. Dean raised the shotgun, keeping it pointed at her head,

"Now, now," she sang, "You know better than to point something like that at something like me."

"Something," Dean repeated with a growl, "You're that all right."

Diana blinked,

"I don't pretend otherwise, just like I'm not going to pretend that this amuses me anymore," she paused abruptly, tracing the tip of her finger across one of the bear's ears and watching it quiver in response, "I was going to save you for Bobby, let him see you get ripped apart but I've still got your brother for that and I'm sure he'll do just fine. Let Bobby find you here, scattered into little pieces," she punctuated each word carefully, every syllable coming out round and defined. Dean's expression flickered, as much at the mention of Sam being pulled apart as his own intended demise. Diana smiled, "Just about break his heart I would imagine. Fitting pay-back, don't you think?"

"Why do you do that?" Dean asked suddenly, tone cut-through with a long sigh of boredom, "You demons? Go on and on about yourselves? It's time to change the record sister, this one's broken."

Diana smiled thinly, a curious expression of respect and fast waning patience,

"Oh I'm going to enjoy this," she whispered, a flash of black passing through her eyes again. Slowly the bears began to walk forward and Dean clutched his shotgun closer.

_Any time Sam._

"Dean!"

As if on cue a familiarly panicked syllable echoed through the tunnel, both he and Diana turning towards it. Sam was standing in the doorway a look of urgency and confusion on his face, Bobby lent behind him on the door-frame looking a little worse for wear. Dean however had bigger issues.

"Sam! The cross!"

As Diana turned Sam stepped back, slipping the wooden cross into his fist and lining up for the best pitch he'd ever made. Gathering the energy into his shoulder muscles, he threw his arm forward, flicking it at the last moment and sending the object sailing through the air over the heads of the oblivious bears and right into Dean's outstretched hand. Diana turned towards it with a frown, her hard stare only slipping as she realised what it was. Too late.

Suddenly Dean was pointing the shotgun up at the glass, one last call bouncing down the tunnel towards his younger brother.

"Sammy! Shut the doors!"

And then Sam didn't have to guess anymore, because he knew what Dean was doing and it did not make him happy.

"Dea – ," he didn't get to finish. In the same moment that Dean pulled the trigger trying hard to ignore the outstretched claw just inches from his face, a hand grabbed hold of a chunk of Sam's collar and hauled him bodily out into the open, slamming the doors shut in front of his face.

The sound of the gunshot and the shattering of glass that followed was amplified by the close surroundings of the tunnel, making Dean, Diana and even the bears inside pause in abrupt shock, unsure of what was happening. For a moment Dean feared that the glass was going to be too tough to break but the sudden tide of water proved him mercifully wrong.

It started as a strong leak, a thin but steady cascade of water pouring down between him and his furred assailants who stumbled back in surprise. They didn't get far however before there was the unmistakable tinkle of breaking glass and cracks started to run up and down the tunnel as the sheer volume of water pressing down proved too much for the bullet-hole.

Open-mouthed, Diana stumbled backwards but neither she nor anybody else was able to reach the doors before one whole section of the roofing gave way in a jagged jigsaw of glass, sending down an almighty rush of churning water that crashed around them and filled the tunnel whole in less time than it took to even take in a breath of air. As the tidal wave flooded in around them, plunging them under gallons of water in a split second, Dean gripped hard to the cross willing his idea to work. He knew what just a little Holy water could do, he could only guess at an aquarium's worth.

Around him everything turned a strange shade of black, the water a lot less blue than movies had led him to believe and only shot through with the bizarrely bright footlights of the tunnel somewhere beneath him, although only God knew exactly where as he somersaulted helplessly in the tide, thrown backwards, forwards, up and down so rapidly by the never-ending torrent of water that he barely knew which direction he was facing.

He hit a flat piece of glass hard, a part of the roofing further down that remained intact. All around him the aquarium water continued to pile in, creating pressure that stuck him fast in place and gripped his heart in icy panic. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe and there was only so long he could hold his breath. That limit was approaching pretty damn quick.

Suddenly to his side there was a ripple of activity that pulled him inwards, like an underwater tornado, an expulsion of energy tinged black and whipping out through the water ferociously.

_Bingo_. _One demon down_.

As his lungs began to contract violently, pulling at him desperately for more air, he let the cross slip from his fingers, job done. Instead he started to pound at the glass to no avail, it was strong, or at least stronger than he was and suddenly he was all out of ideas and oxygen.

The flood started to drop almost instantly. A fraction at a time but suddenly presenting a tiny bubble of air that he could turn his head towards, gasping and spluttering as he sucked in a mouthful of the bobbing liquid alongside it. Slowly the water level was falling, running out of the many exit doors and gaps that the probably-none-too-water-proof visitor walkway was full of, lowering him down and down until he was practically riding out on top of the crest, coughing in the churning torrent of foam and bubbles and hitting the ground hard as it levelled out to nothing more than an incredibly drenched carpet.

He braced himself against it unmoving, pleased beyond belief to feel the ground underneath him again, his clothes hanging off him so heavily that he could barely lever himself into a crouch, his jeans like sheets of unbending metal around his joints. He coughed and spluttered too, the salt water draining off his damp hair into his eyes, the stinging sensation suddenly coming to the forefront as the panic of near-death faded away.

There was a squelch beside him and as he belatedly remembered the polar bears a strong grip wrapped firmly around his arms, making him jump.

"Dean?" It was Sam, "Are you okay?" A splutter met the younger man's gasp of concern as he grabbed up handfuls of Dean's jacket and hauled him onto his knees, watching as the droplets of water cascaded down from his brother's hairline and then across and off his nose, joining the water being coughed out over the lips. He had yet to get an answer, "_Dean_," it was harder this time, Sam brushing aside his worry in exchange for a response either way. A hand came up to rest across his, gripping hard.

"I'm okay Sam,"

The answer brought a grin of wry disbelief,

_Yeah, for a man who just had an aquarium dropped on him._

Shaking his head Sam pulled him upright to his feet, it took Bobby less than a second to join them, face twisted in what looked like anger although they all knew it was masking the relief he felt beneath.

"You ever try that again," he began, pointing an accusing finger in Dean's face, "I'll damn well drown you myself," abruptly he reached out a hand to clap him on the shoulder, a sudden smile on his lips, "Good job."

Dean coughed once more, swiping a hand across his wet face and grinning vaguely, feeling exhausted.

"Thanks."

Sam meanwhile had moved beyond them across to a figure lying face down in the damp, prone and seemingly lifeless. Crouching beside her, Sam gently pulled the wet hair out of Katie's face, resting two fingers against her cold and damp neck. Dean and Bobby looked across at him expectantly,

"She's alive."

"Well I'll be," breathed Bobby, the grin widening before he noticed the bears beginning to stumble to their feet behind them, "Come on, we'd better get out of here. All of us."

Sweeping one hand behind her neck and the other under her legs, Sam hefted Katie up into his arms, listening to the soft squelching as they quickly made their way out of the tunnel, Bobby collecting up his cross and shotgun almost as an after-thought as they went. They shut the doors firmly behind them and then secured them again with an iron bar in absence of the lock Dean had wasted earlier. They then used their ever-handy piece of chalk to write a polar bear related warning on the steel entrance. They hardly wanted another keeper death on their hands.

Slowly and with Dean trailing decidedly wet footprints alongside the colourful animal prints, the hunters made their way out of the park, Katie still hanging limply in Sam's arms. Bobby led the way muttering – mostly to himself – about the Winchester's being the death of him while Dean and Sam trailed in his wake, the younger weighed down by the prone tiger keeper but deliberately slowing his step to match Dean's, which was ever so slightly flagging. Hardly surprising really.

"Look at the bright side," he said eventually, breaking the silence in a quiet aside. Dean looked across at him, a brow cocked quizzically.

"Which is?"

"You got to see the aquarium,"

His grin was returned in kind, Dean skating a hand through his sopping hair and flicking the excess water off his fingers and down onto the concrete as he snorted in derision,

"Looked better in brochure."

"Drier too. So, still fancy a day at the zoo?"

A grin met his,

"Yeah, actually I kinda do."

Sam blinked, _seriously?_ Well, Dean always had been a bit of a mystery. Up ahead Bobby half-turned to shout back at them irritably, his tone no less forgiving for a job done.

"Will you two stop yakking and hurry up! Those cops will probably be back any minute and I don't know about you but I don't think there's going to be any explaining this one away!"

Sam and Dean shared a glance.

Silently and still squelching, they both sped up a notch.

The man had a point.

* * *

Somehow I just can't resist Dean being brave and stupid all at the same time…oh well!

One more chapter to go and then we're done for another tale!

Snow is just _about_ starting to melt – another blizzard notwithstanding – and I put that down to all the lovely fuzzy reviews I've got! I appreciate every single one, thank you.


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

"Here," came a pleased sounding voice to their right, catching them off-guard as they stared across the railings at the zebras, "Chocolate."

As a packet of brown ice cream was thrust under his nose Dean turned to Katie with a grin of delight, snatching the treat from her hands and ripping off the plastic without even pausing for breath. Sam rolled his eyes, watching as the keeper extended one in his direction too,

"You sure you don't want one Sam?" she asked, double-checking.

"Uh, no thanks," he replied with an almost bashful laugh of apology. It was interrupted by a speed attack from Dean, his hand shooting out to snatch his brother's refused dessert even with his own sticking out of his mouth. Sam stifled a sigh, sharing a look with Katie.

"You'll have to forgive him," he offered with a grin, "He doesn't meet people very often."

Dean shot him a look in return, the severity of it marred only by the onset of brain-freeze.

_Watch it Sam. I can and will get you back._

Sam's gaze narrowed,

_Whatever dude._

Standing beside them not privy to their silent conversation, Katie coughed hesitantly, smiling as she watched two surprised faces tip in her direction.

It had been a week since she'd woken up on the way to the hospital in the back of a vintage Chevy, the sound of it's roaring engine screaming in her ears and two strange men sitting in the front. Only they weren't strangers, not really, because she could just about remember them from…well, from when whatever had been in her body had _been_ in her body. The two men in the front of the car had saved her, they had fought the creature that had banished her to the fringes of her own consciousness, they had…well, they'd wrecked the aquarium.

It had taken quite a bit of convincing before they'd managed to get her to stop screaming for the police, and even longer to explain the whole demon/possession/animal control situation. They'd got there in the end though, helped by the arrival of Bobby and his no-nonsense approach to the situation, as well as his surprisingly copious supplies of alcohol. God had she needed _that_.

They'd been pretty convincing though, so much so that by the time they'd walked her into the ER – not even abandoning her in the car park which was sweet of them – she'd been offering not only to cover their tracks back at the zoo but also complimentary passes for a day out when Dean had mentioned in an off-hand fashion how much he'd enjoyed seeing the animals. That had earned him an astonished look from Sam before he'd clarified the statement. He meant the ones that _hadn't_ tried to rip his head off. _Obviously_.

Bobby had refused the free entry-pass, muttering something about a 'pair of children' and throwing his eyes skyward, probably in a silent appeal to their father or any other relative that happened to be looking down, praying for some sort of sanity. When none had been forthcoming he'd mumbled a final few parting insults and clambered into his truck trying to hide his grin of fond amusement.

Those two –

It had taken Dean over twenty years, but he was finally having a proper, _normal_ day out at the zoo, and he was going to make the most of it.

"So," Sam began in the pause that followed, watching as his brother started to attack the second ice cream with a hunter's ferocity, turning himself and Katie nonchalantly away from the scene, "What's the official word on what happened here?"

He kept his voice low, eyes flicking round for other members of staff. Katie too shifted awkwardly,

"Break-in," she whispered back, the explanation seeming unsatisfactory given the chaos they had caused. Sam frowned,

"They think burglars broke into the zoo, smashed up the aquarium and released the polar bears?"

Katie shrugged,

"They don't know what else to say, but it fits in with the burnt-out alarm."

"What about all the salt?"

"A prank? I don't think they really know what to make of that," Sam listened with a silent nod. He didn't blame them. Katie suddenly smiled, clearly amused, "But the police _have_ issued a mock-up of one of their chief suspects though, they think he was probably the look-out,"

Sliding a hand into the pocket of her uniform she pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolding it and handing the image across. It was a professional police sketch of a man with a beard, frown and an old cap. Sam stifled a grin looking up as Dean wandered in – all ice-creamed out for the day – and peered over his shoulder,

"Hey," he chirped, brows knitting together in puzzlement, "That Bobby?"

Katie smiled despite herself,

"They're calling him the Wolf Man."

"Oh man, is he gonna love that!" Dean grinned back, reaching over and plucking the paper from his brother's hands. Sam blinked across at him,

"Probably not."

"No," Dean agreed with a shrug, the grin never slacking once, "But can you imagine the look on his face when we tell him?"

He had a point.

As a keeper walked past them in the distance, turning and beckoning to Katie before pointing at his watch in a clear _break's over_gesture, the khaki-clad blonde turned to them with a bashful smile, hands digging deep into her pockets with sudden awkwardness.

"Well, that's me. I gotta get back to work."

Sam nodded, his expression warm,

"Sure."

_Don't worry about us_. That one she could interpret.

"Thanks…" she began, tailing off as her gratitude failed to quite sum up what she and the park's many visitors, animals and staff members owed them, "…for everything."

"Any time," Dean replied, his smile so genuine that she instantly believed him, offering a final parting waggle of her fingers before turning and heading back to work. Sam watched her go, heaving a thoughtful sigh,

"It's nice isn't it?" he asked absently, eyes still on the disappearing figure as he continued, "When we get to save them. Usually they're so broken when we get them back that – ," he stopped suddenly as he turned into the face of a middle-aged woman, clutching a small child to her side and peering at him with worry. Quickly Sam looked around, his suspicions confirmed. Dean was not standing beside him anymore and he was, essentially talking to himself. He was a grown man standing _alone_ in a _zoo_ talking to himself. No wonder the woman seemed concerned.

Offering her an apologetic smile, Sam stepped away from them cursing inwardly and casting around for his brother. Dean was standing thirty feet away leaning across the railings to…Sam groaned silently, the capuchin enclosure. _Great_. It was as he started towards him however that his step faltered, slowing in amazement as he watched Dean look around and then slip over the railings, across the shallow ditch and towards the bars.

What was he doing?

"Dean!" the hiss came out in a combination of anger and confusion as Sam's feet caught up with his rapidly beating heart and carried him the rest of the way to the railings, hanging over them in order to get as close to his brother as he could without shouting, "Dean, what – ,"

"Sssh!"

The response caught him by surprise but he instantly shut-up, his puzzlement only magnifying as Dean dropped to his knees and pushed his arm in through the bars after something. Biting his lip to keep from shouting again Sam instead took watch-duty, peering around for any approaching figures. Luckily there were none and the nearest visitors were an elderly couple and their two young grandchildren, all four of them enraptured by the orangutans. Still, that didn't mean they were going to stay that way.

"_Dean_ – ,"

"Got it!"

As the situation reached critical Dean suddenly sprang to his feet, face alive with pride and one arm raised above his head. Sam turned quickly towards the old couple as his brother's triumph rang out across the exhibit, exhaling as they turned unawares and headed off in the opposite direction. He sighed heavily, eyes swinging irritably towards his older sibling,

"Got what?" he snapped, his expression changing wholesale as he took in the item clutched in Dean's fingers. His wallet, admittedly with a few extra teeth marks, but most definitely still his wallet. Amazement overtook anger, "But how did you – where – ,"

Dean shrugged casually, the typically cavalier attitude he used for moments when he'd excelled himself, grinning as he tossed it through the air.

"Must have got bored of using it as a chew toy. Looks like you lucked out for once."

"Yeah," even more so, "All the cards are here."

Dean threw him a wink, vaulting back over the railings and dusting off his hands as he let out a wistful sigh,

"Just got to be patient," he sang cheerfully. He was pleased with himself; a newly completed case _and _a free day at the zoo. Good times, "You see Sam, where you went wrong the other night was trying to take that little banana-eating bastard on, it's an animal, sooner or later it was bound to get tired of the thing and throw it away. Your problem is you over-estimate them…"

Sam looked up, mildly amused by the impromptu speech until his eyes fell on the little capuchin from the night before, sitting on the platform behind them, something in his black little paws and, if he wasn't very much mistaken, a grin on its face.

"Uh…Dean?"

His brother wasn't listening,

"Animals are dumb Sam. Well, except for those dogs that play dead and the horses that can roll over, they're awesome, but apart from that – ,"

He tried again, firmer,

"Dean."

"What?" came the reply, clearly irritated by the lack of interest in his lecture and frowning harder as his little brother stepped in close, gripped him by the shoulders and spun him in the direction of the cage.

The blood left his face almost instantly, a hand shooting abruptly to his pocket as an icy pit of horror settled in the bottom of his stomach.

Behind him, Sam cleared his throat, keen to avoid the meltdown that was bound to follow.

"I'll go get Katie," he offered slowly, backing away. He wanted to be at least fifty feet away when Dean exploded, "Just stay calm okay? Like you said," he stifled the laughter threatening to creep past his lips, speeding up his pace a little as he headed in the direction of the keeper's area, "It'll get bored in a minute. Right?"

No answer.

Poor Dean, he really needed to take his own advice on this one.

After all, what could a capuchin monkey do with the keys for a 1967 Chevy Impala anyway?

Actually, it was probably best not to guess, not with the psychotic breakdown still pending. One thing was for certain though, Sam thought as he picked up his pace from a walk to a gentle jog of urgency.

They wouldn't be going to the zoo again.

Not for a long time.

* * *

Annnnd done!

I hope you liked it, and thank you so much for sticking with it and letting me know what you think!

Don't ask me how or why but if anyone at all is interested I've got _another_ story ready for posting, not quite a goofy as this one – although I loved writing the quirkiness of this! Was going to start posting that one tomorrow or the day after so if you're bored please keep an eye out! I'm not sure about the title yet but basically Dean gets the flu, there's a nasty about and Sam has to try and keep the whole thing from unravelling (his turn to play hero!)

But for this one I can wholeheartedly say…

The End!


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